


The Dances of Middle Earth

by DragonWriter77



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Celebrations, Dancing, Dwarves, Elves, F/M, Gondor, Hobbits, Rohan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 09:53:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7972507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonWriter77/pseuds/DragonWriter77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine Legolas watching you from the other end of the dance floor, trying to get up the courage to ask you to dance with him. Then becoming surprised when you ask him yourself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dances of Middle Earth

You laugh as Pippin and Merry prance at the center of the dance floor, clapping and skipping in a dance you recognize from the Shire. With a second’s hesitation, you navigate the other, human dancers till you reach the two hobbits and began dancing along with them. They give you baffled looks before grinning and speeding up the dance. You speed up along with them, spinning and clapping to the beat. After many more twists and turns, the song ends and the hobbits stop their dance.

“I had no idea you knew the Bywater Jig!” Pippin exclaims as he and Merry accompany you to the edge of the dance floor.

You laugh, “I used to travel a lot before the shadow returned. I learned quite a few dances of the Shire among other things. Still, I believe the dance has changed a bit. An extra step has been added after the triple turn, if I’m correct.”

“What, this?” Pippin does a light kick with his heel.

“Yes. Though now that I know that, I’ll be prepared next time the Bywater Jig comes my way.”

“Do you also know the Hobbiton Festival Trot?” Merry cocks his head.

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Then we’ll have to dance that next!” Pippin grins heartily.

To the side, someone coughs, “Excuse me, but I was wondering if the elvish maiden would care for a dance?”

You turn in surprise to see one of the knights of Gondor looking down shyly. “I would be delighted. Sorry Pippin, I think the Hobbiton Festival Trot will have to wait.”

“Ah! It’s no matter at all! I was going to get another drink or two for myself anyway. Come on Merry!”

As the two hobbits dart off, you join the knight on the dance floor. You smile as the music begins and you begin the dance. Unlike the earlier hobbit dance, which carried a sense of wind through daisies, rushing water, and sweet meadow grass, this dance is more noble, carrying the regality of the white tree and power of the the Horn of Gondor. You spin and sidestep till the song ends. Then before you know it, you’re swept into another dance by one of the rohirrim. This dance is of a stronger beat and feels like the golden plains and the thunder of hoofbeats. The turns are the song and rhythm of war as well as the clash of swords. When it’s over, you join Merry and Pippin at one of the tables around the room. There they’re laughing and swapping stories with Gimli and Gandalf.

“Ay! (y/n)! Seems the dance floor’s been keeping you occupied enough.” Merry takes a swig from his cup.

“Yes, indeed. The shadow over middle earth has been lifted and we have much to celebrate. I’m glad my days of learning dance have finally come of use here. It’s dreadful not being able to partake in enjoyment,” you smile.

Across the table, Gimli puts down his mug, “You may know the dances of the Hobbits, Rohan, and Gondor, but what would be most impressive is if you knew the dances of the dwarves.”

Your eyes light mischievously, “Name one and see, Master Dwarf!”

Gimli ponders for a second, “The March of the Lonely Mountain?”

“Ah yes, always a pleasure to dance, though I personally prefer the Ered Luin variant. It’s a bit more lively.”

Gimli frowns, “You’re bluffing.”

“Would you like to put me to the test?” You laugh, standing up. “This song has the beat for it.”

Gimli laughs and drains the rest of his mug. Then he slams it down on the table and stands, “Aye it does.”

Merry and Pippin watch with wide eyes as you and the dwarf begin to dance. This dance is very different from the others. You stomp the floor and beat your hands together, sidestepping and swinging back and forth. As you dance, you feel a clear sense of the sturdiness of the mountain and the strikes of a smith’s hammer. The dance is rough like the untamed mountainside yet as clear cut as a polished adamant. You spin and weave, pounding the floor and raising your arms. Finally the dance subsides and you’re left flushed and breathless.

Gimli shakes his head in wonder as the pair of you walk back to the table, “As I said, I am truly impressed. Where, by chance, did you learn our dances?”

You breath deeply, “An expedition a few hundred years ago, where a band of my people and yours found they were traveling along the same road. Despite the usual animosity between us, our kin decided to reach out in friendship. My brothers conversed mostly of smithing, but I yearned knowledge of a different sort. I haven’t had a chance to practice since then, so I fear I lagged through some parts.”

“Nonsense! My people couldn’t have chosen a better recipient for that knowledge. Just don’t go spreading it too carelessly.”

“Not to fear, Master Dwarf, I made a promise not to do that long ago.”

Gimli nods in satisfaction before setting off to refill his mug.

Alone at the side of the dance floor, you look around. Pippin and Merry have run off to the other side of the room and are dancing the Bywater Jig again, this time joined by Frodo and Sam. Eowyn and Faramir dance nearby the halflings and Gandalf has disappeared. Finally your gaze rests on Legolas, sitting alone and watching the dance floor thoughtfully.

You walk lightly across the floor and slide into the seat next to him, placing your arm on the table, “Where wanders the Prince of Mirkwood? His physical presence is here, but his mind is not.”

Legolas shakes himself from his thoughts and turns toward you, “My thoughts are on the journey ahead. To Fangorn, the glittering caves, and eventually home.”

“I see, but those thoughts can be put for another time, can they not? Tonight is of celebration. I’ve yet to see you take the dance floor.”

Legolas smiles and his startling blue eyes look back at the dancers, “True, but the night is young yet.”

“Yes, though I’ve never known a Mirkwood elf to wait so long for a dance. Or do you mean to tell me you didn’t often enjoy dancing under the trees?”

“I did, but I’m afraid here I’d be put to shame after your fair dancing.”

You feel a slight blush creep to your cheeks as you realize he’d been watching you. Suddenly you feel glad for the dim lighting. “You flatter me, but come now. These halls have seen the dances of men, hobbits, and even of dwarves. Let us show them the dances of the elves. Or we can wait for Arwen and Aragorn to steal that thunder.” You nod toward the recently crowned king and queen at the head of the festivities. “Choose a dance, I know many of Mirkwood.”

Legolas shifts in surprise and looks thoughtful, “In contrary, the dances of Lothlorien fascinate me. Please tell me which dance you love the most and perhaps it will be my turn to amaze you.”

You blink in surprise and your eyes widen. Few have ever asked you to choose the dance before. “I- I enjoy the Dance of Falling Gold,” You said after a moment of silence.

“Really? That’s always been my favorite as well,” Legolas stands and offers you his arm.

You accept and he leads you onto the dance floor.

The dance begins immediately and you feel a thrill as your feet fly through the familiar steps. This dance is like falling water and autumn leaves. As you twirl, you see the wind playfully rustling the golden mallorn leaves before the leaves fall and new green ones take their place. When Legolas drops you into a dip, you see the leaves unfolding and the tiny golden flowers bursting forth. When he spins you, it’s the running of the Gladden River and the strength of the silver mallorn trunks. You feel your heart race with the beat and your eyes remain locked with his. When the dance ends, your breath is fast and shallow and your cheeks are once again flushed. Legolas bows deeply before offering his arm again and leading you from the dance floor.

You sit down feeling breathless, barely noticing Legolas still holding your hand, “Thank you. I forgot just how much I loved that dance.”

“It was my pleasure, my lady. And I believe I ought to be thanking you for getting me to dance in the first place.”

“Oy! (y/n)!” Pippin calls as he dodges toward the side of the room. “Are you ready for the Festival Trot yet? Sam doesn’t believe me that you said you can do it!”

Legolas quickly releases your hand as if he just barely noticed he’d been holding it. Sam blusters after Pippin, calling correction. “It appears our hobbit friends are wanting your attention.”

You laugh, “Seems they are. I’ll be right there Pippin!” You stand and take a step forward. “Don’t think you’ve gotten out of anything though,” you say, glancing over your shoulder to stare once more in Legolas’s peircing eyes. “I’ll be back for that dance from Mirkwood.”

With that you step through the crowd to join the hobbits, not waiting for a response. As you step away, the butterflies swarming your stomach finally settle down, though you hadn’t even realized they were there. The hobbits around you begin dancing and you fall in step with them, losing yourself to the music, though you still catch sight of Legolas through the crowd once or twice. Each time he is wearing a shy smile and looks away quickly when your eyes meet.


End file.
